


Always

by Macywacy



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Royai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macywacy/pseuds/Macywacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She only has two days.</p>
<p>Forty-eight hours.</p>
<p>Two thousand eight hundred and eighty minutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

 

She’s been sitting in her chair for what seemed like an eternity. So long that the rough, printed fabric left indentions on her legs and the elbow she had propped up on the arm rest. Riza’s been staring at the phone, waiting for the shrill ring to cut through the choking silence of her apartment. It’s not a matter of if, but when. That’s how it is with him.

His timing is _always_ uncanny.

Her fingers card through Hayate’s fur as she waits, and he happily snuggles into her hand from where he rests on her lap. She isn’t paying much attention, but that should be expected from her. The Ishval trials started just a few weeks ago, and hers is coming up in two days.

Forty-eight hours.

Two thousand eight hundred and eighty minutes.

His is only five days away. They’d been nice enough to schedule them close together. She had to give them credit for being smart about it. They would have to take care of her before they could even think of harming him. That’s just how it was.

In fact, the two were in such a deep rut that it was nearly impossible to think about anything besides what _always_ happened. It was comfortable and familiar in this time of fighting the world tooth and nail.

Riza glances up at the clock on the wall, causing her already messy hair to fall off her shoulder and down to where it normally hung at her back. It’s getting late, and she considers going to bed for a moment. It wouldn’t be right, though. She never misses his calls. He’d get worried.

Then, as if she’s transmitted her thought to him, there’s a shrill high-pitched ring of the phone. Hayate’s raises in alarm, though he returns to his half-asleep state as Riza’s fingers scratch just behind his ear. She smiles sadly down at him, wondering how well he’ll do with Fuery in a few days.

The phone is heavy in her hand as she lifts it up to ear, barely letting the soft ‘hello’ escape her mouth before the first few tears sting at her eyes. The soon to be ex-lieutenant hasn’t cried since she got the news; she never cries. It’s a sign of weakness, and one that she has no plans of showing.

“You alright?” Just the timbre of his voice somehow had its own resonance; there were too many memories tied to it. Too many to relive in the last few nights she had left.

She ignores the question, mostly because he already knows the answer to it. “Are you coming over?” There’s a certain hint of desperation in her voice, one that doesn’t manage to squeeze its way out of her throat very often. It’s a stupid question for her to ask. It almost never happens at her apartment, since sneaking in and out is so difficult with the constant bumbling around of her neighbors. It’s not as if she has anything to hide at this point, though. Riza’s already accepted her death, even if the verdict wouldn’t be made for another two days.

Her question continues to hang in the air, and is only met with a loud sigh. Then, after a few more moments of consideration, Roy speaks. “You know that’s a bad idea…”

She rubs her temple, lifting the arm that had been lying on the armrest for a large part of the night. “I’m aware of that,” Riza sighs, glancing up at the clock for the umpteenth time. “I just don’t particularly care how bad of an idea it is.”

There’s a long pause, one that makes her reconsider her words. “You’re sure?” She shakes her head, though a small smile works its way onto her face. He always asks that, as if one day she’s going to up and decide she’s done with him and walk away. If only it was that easy…

“I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.” The lieutenant deadpanned, earning herself a small chuckle from the other end of the line.

-

It took only about twenty minutes for him to make it to her apartment, but time seemed to have a hold on the woman and left her shaking every time she glanced at her clock. It ticked by slowly and all too fast at the same time.

There’s a small, quiet knock at the door. Riza sighs in relief as she pushed herself off the chair, sending Hayate to the floor with a surprised yelp. She apologizes to the dog quickly and in a hushed tone before making her way to the door.

Normally, this is his idea.

She isn’t entirely sure what to do when she opens the door, and instead stands there staring him with a look that could put the deer-caught-in-headlights expression to shame. Roy shakes his head at her, though there’s an undeniable smirk playing at the edge of his mouth that makes the blonde cross her arms in slight annoyance. He isn’t allowed to find this _funny_.

But it is funny. In fact, it’s hilarious if the fact that the two will most likely be put to death in a matter of weeks is removed. Riza’s practically the personification of self-control and stoicness, yet here she stands in the doorway of her apartment, trying to figure out exactly how she is to propose this.

“Well?” She manages after a moment, giving him a rather expectant look. Her question is received with the quirk of one of his eyebrows, though even that fades as she grabs his arm and pulls him into her apartment.

Riza closes the door back as Roy makes an attempt to regain his balance. She leans back against the cold wood of the door, crossing her arms once again as he finally manages to stand back up straight. The lieutenant shrugs, as if answering an unspoken question, before her superior walks back over to wrap his arms around her. She smiles, albeit sadly, as she lets her arms snake around his neck.

It happens quickly, although not entirely quietly. One moment they’re standing at the door, and the next they’re lying on her bed. Their clothes are scattered around, like new decorations that she forgot to drag out at the beginning of the season. She isn’t entirely aware of entirely aware of everything at moment.

She knows that he’s hovering over her, and is hyper aware of his lips against her neck. There’s the subtle tang to the air that makes her want to wrinkle her nose up and snuggle against him all at the same time. She can feel her back arch against him, and she can hear a groan though she isn’t sure who it belongs to.

For a while, she doesn’t have to think about the impending doom that looms over the two of them. She isn’t concerned with anything aside from the way his fingers trail over her, or the way her fingernails scratch her life story onto his back. She isn’t too worried about anything.

Maybe that’s why this always happens like it does.

 

 


End file.
